


Gaeilge

by MiniNephthys



Category: Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gaelic Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNephthys/pseuds/MiniNephthys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Issei practices Irish Gaelic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gaeilge

Lancer is a little confused by hearing "Nach breá an lá é?" outside of Issei's room, partially because it's an unfamiliar voice speaking Irish Gaelic and partially because it's obviously raining hard and thundering outside. Asking if it's a nice day is like asking if Gilgamesh has a sweet personality.

As he enters, though, he hears Issei repeat the phrase with decent pronunciation, and the monk's look of intense concentration is shattered by Lancer's appearance. "Ah, um, L-Lancer."

Lancer waves a hand in greeting.

The tape player goes on to say 'you are right' and Issei mouths 'tá an ceart agat' even as he scrambles to shut it off. "I. Didn't think that you would be coming in this weather."

"It looks like that. What, did you want to surprise me with this?" Lancer picks up the box the tape came in. "This would be old if you weren't trying to use it with someone who hasn't been in Ireland for a long time. What else can you say?"

Issei thinks for a moment. "Cad is ainm duit?" Still too slow to be natural, but decent.

"Cú Chulainn is ainm dom," he answers, as simply as he can to get on Issei's level. Issei lights up a little, evidently pleased at being understood and understanding; of course that excitement disappears when Lancer musses up his hair, replaced by irritation, but it showed for a moment.

Lancer doesn't think of it all too much after that, but Issei occasionally reminds him of it. After Rin bothers him too many times in one visit, he can hear Issei mutter, "Titim gan éirí ort," and he whistles appreciatively because he didn't expect curses to be in Issei's lessons or for him to practice them so much.

When he messes with Issei and prods and teases, Issei stumbles out a, "Na dean sin." Lancer grins and lets go because even if he didn't ask nicely, he asked with effort.

He catches Issei counting, "Aon, do, tri," and when he asks Issei tells him that it helps if he can practice the simple things until they're reflexive.

"An bhfuil ocras ort?" replaces the usual questions of if Issei can cook for him again, during which time Issei works on more of the language, and so on.

Lancer teaches him a few phrases of his own, just to be able to watch Issei concentrate over each syllable, sounds a little stilted but getting better. Whenever Lancer tells him that he's got it down, Issei beams at him like it was his goal in life to make Lancer proud.

One day he asks, "An bhfuil tu damhsa liom?" more slowly and carefully than he would even with a complicated sentence like that normally.

Lancer glances over. "Huh. Not bad pronunciation, but you need to practice until it sounds natural."

Issei's face reddens as he grumbles, "It was a question."

"...Huh?"

"An bhfuil tu damhsa liom?" Issei repeats with his hand extended in invitation.

There's no occasion, no music, but when Lancer pieces it together he laughs and answers, "Why not. I'll dance."

(Later Issei mentions that his tapes also taught him how to ask where someone's bedroom was, and Lancer teases him until he's worked himself into a state of incoherent blushing. So all is as normal.)


End file.
